


Pride Goeth Before the Fall

by finefeatheredfriend



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Rimming, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, reference to past drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finefeatheredfriend/pseuds/finefeatheredfriend
Summary: John Seed is bored with his duties preparing the Project for the Collapse. He travels to Billings to spend a night revisiting his old sins and encounters a singularly experienced and interesting sexual partner. Little does he know that she will come into his life later, but not for another night of fun.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Pride Goeth Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> TW: reference to past drug use  
TW: reference to alcoholism

"You're sure this trip is really necessary, brother?" Joseph asked, a small series of lines pinching together just between his brows. It was obvious he didn't believe John, was obvious that he was concerned.

"Just a little paperwork to make sure the Feds won't be bothering us anytime soon, Joseph. Nothing I can't handle, but it may take some time."

"How much time?" Joseph asked, his eyes glancing down at track marks on John's arms that were now covered with hand-drawn tattoos. John resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest defensively. The action would be a dead giveaway that he felt guilty, proof that he simply could not stand the quiet here anymore and that he was about to sin again. He needed at least one night, just one night of depravity, he told himself. He wasn't sure yet which of his vices he would allow to rule him, but he knew that one would. Drugs were tempting, but they were also a hazardous gateway to a road he had turned away from years before. It would be too obvious, he thought. Joseph would see the bags under his eyes, regardless of what skincare product John used. His brother would smell pot on him no matter how many times he showered. Joseph would see the redness of his nostrils, would notice the shaking of his hands, the jitteriness of his motions. No, meth, pot, coke, none of it could claim him now. But alcohol, perhaps? His mouth watered at the thought of swilling expensive liquor in his mouth. The nutty smoothness of scotch…the burning sweetness of bourbon…the slick coolness of vodka. "John?" Joseph asked, pulling him from his reverie.

“Sorry, was just running through my agenda,” John lied easily. Joseph was one of the only people on this planet who could tell when John was lying, and the younger Seed could sense that Joseph knew he was lying now. His brother closed his eyes slowly and reopened them, clenching his jaw and nodding. He put a gentle hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed, the warmth of his hand suffusing through John’s silk vest and shirt.

“Be careful, brother,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost inaudible over the sounds of work crews digging out the space to expand Jacob’s armory in the background. An explosion rocked the site and John jumped. Joseph frowned toward the worksite as dust and rock clattered back to the ground. It was a regular occurrence here where stone had to be moved to allow for preparations for the Collapse, but John had a guilty conscience, so the loud nose had caught him off-guard. Joseph turned back to John with a sad smile on his face. “Temptation comes in many forms. And guilt will always follow us.” John frowned a little, wondering if he should argue, wondering if he should even bother to claim that Joseph was completely off-base in suggesting that John was planning to sin again.

It wasn’t worth the argument.

“I’ll be back in a few days, Joseph,” John told him, walking to his car.

Regardless of which sin he decided to let take hold of him, John thought as he navigated his sleek red sports car over mountain passes, he was certain he could walk away after. He just needed one night. One night of depravity and adrenaline and…he swallowed, adjusting the air conditioning with a long finger, and then he could resume his duties. He could be righteous. He could be good, for Joseph.

A few hours later, John pulled into Billings, his crystal blue eyes surveying his options. He could always just go to a bar, he thought. No, too easy. Too mundane. A college bar? Nah, that could get sticky with all the college students around. Putting a tack in his plans for debauchery momentarily, John decided to find a place to spend the night. There were no five-star hotels in Billings, so John chose the nicest four-star hotel he could find and booked a suite. Carrying his own luggage up with a curl of his lip, he opened the door to a surprisingly opulent space. He sat on the edge of the bed, ran a hand over the soft comforter. The back of his hand was tattooed with the seven deadly sins, all in Latin. He swallowed, his eyes lingering on “_luxuria_” – lust.

Of all the things he so badly wanted, he wanted sex the most, he realized. He picked up his phone, moving his fingers to open a hookup app and tapping the wrong icon in his haste. Scowling, he tried again and waited for his options to load on the slow wireless internet provided by the hotel. Lying back with one arm slung between the back of his head and a pillow, he perused the available men and women, trying to decide. He wasn’t interested in a man, not tonight. What he really wanted at the moment was the soft, smooth skin of a woman against him, he decided. He wanted to squeeze breasts and sink his fingers into warm wetness until the little symbols tattooed between his knuckles were buried deep inside his partner.

There were many college-aged girls, all pretty, all willing, but John preferred experience to enthusiasm. His eye was caught by one portrait, a plain but pretty face that smirked at the camera as though she knew something it did not, and she was terribly pleased about that fact. “Not looking for love, just looking for dick,” her profile read. John huffed a laugh, sliding a fingertip over the photo to show the next one and raising an eyebrow at the image that loaded after a moment. The angle was from somewhere at the woman’s hip and tilted up toward her head, giving a glorious view of the underside of her breasts. More interestingly, it showed an intricately detailed tattoo of a raven or a crow that wrapped around her waist toward her back.

Biting his lip in anticipation, he began to type a message.

“Only in town for a couple of nights. I hear you’re looking for dick. Conveniently, I have one.” He hit send. Three dots appeared on his screen, flickering, and he sat up straight in anticipation.

“Is that so? Prove it.”

“Just to be clear, are you consenting to a dick pic?” he sent in response.

“LMAO what are you, a lawyer?” Proper punctuation and spelling in a phone message? John smirked. His kind of girl.

“Yes, actually.”

“Hot. Show me that dick and you might get some digits.” John chuckled, already feeling himself rising to the occasion. He unzipped his designer jeans and reached for a bottle of lube from his suitcase. He squirted some into his hand and began to stroke himself, sighing a bit at the sensation. Usually he did everything he could to avoid becoming erect. Since Joseph had declared that there should be no fornication by any member of the Project, John had only infrequently allowed himself to masturbate. The action was usually just a series of quick, merciless jerks, hurriedly trying to get it over with before he got caught by one of the Project members, or, God forbid, his brother. Even locked bathrooms weren’t safe, he thought, given his inability to stay completely quiet when he orgasmed. He had nearly bitten a hole in his cheek the last time he had come, his dry, rasping groan still escaping anyway, making him feel deeply ashamed when he had stepped out of the bathroom to find a Project member looking for him to sign some paperwork. He figured from the blush that had risen on her cheeks that she had known what he was up to. Her name was Holly, and he was pretty sure he could have bent her over the bathroom counter if he had wanted to, but he really didn’t want to give into sin again. He didn’t want to disappoint Joseph.

So much for that, John thought, letting himself grow stiff and then aiming his camera at himself, snapping a tasteful picture that showed dick, but no balls. He was a classy guy. No classy guy sends ball pics. Pausing for only a moment, he sent the picture with no accompanying message.

“Ooh, very nice. I’m interested. I’ll send you a contact link and you can text me.” They swapped to texting, picking at each other and flirting. She sent him a very nice picture of her breasts that made him groan and try to calm.

“You’re going to make me sin,” he sent, feeling his cheeks flush with interest.

“That’s the plan. What did you have in mind for tonight?”

“I’m interested in backdoor penetration. That something you’d be into?”

“I’m always into ass fucking, hot stuff,” she sent back almost immediately. If he was going to sin, he might as well do it right, he thought. A second later another message followed her first. “Eat light. I’m going to wear you out tonight.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he sent back, adding his hotel details and a time for them to meet.

John was distracted all day, barely paying attention to the work he had brought with him on his laptop. He really did have to file some paperwork in Billings, but he could easily have sent someone to do it for him. He was doubly glad now that he had decided to do this. He could barely wait to sink himself inside a warm body, to wrap an arm around a waist and down between two legs to stroke damp flower petal folds, all while pumping himself inside the warm, willing body.

When the time finally came, John was immaculately groomed and dressed in a sleek, well-fitted suit. In his experience, the best gifts were the ones that needed unwrapping. There was a knock at the door, and he stepped toward it, heart thundering in excitement. It took all his considerable self-control not to be sporting a raging erection already. He wanted to take his time with this…fornication.

Opening the door, John put on a winning smile and ushered his guest in. She looked remarkably confident, all stony features and lean muscle wrapped in a knee-length, black sheath dress. Her hair was pulled up into a well-ordered ponytail, and she was carrying a large handbag. He never had asked what she did for a living. It hardly mattered, he would never see her again after tonight.

“Is there someplace I can set this?” she asked.

“Right over there is fine,” he assured her, turning away to pull two bottles of water out of the minifridge. He turned back toward her, shocked to find a harness and a rather large purple dildo in her hand. “Uhm,” he stuttered out, at a loss for words.

“I thought you said you were looking for some backdoor penetration,” she quipped, seeming utterly sincere in her comment, not at all as though she had willfully misinterpreted what he had said.

“Well, um, I um, what I meant was…” She sat the dildo and the harness down on the bed and sauntered toward him, a smile rising on her painted cherry red lips.

“There’s what you meant, and there’s what I’m willing to do for you, Mr. Lawyer.”

“John,” he conceded. “My name’s John.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, but did not elaborate on her own identity.

“And you are?” he asked in an expectant tone as she stroked a hand down his collar genteelly. She sniffed a laugh.

“Call me ‘Rook.’” John smiled a professional smile he saved for particularly grating clients, a little cold, but not unnerving.

“Rook. I came here tonight to relax, unwind. I think I was clear about what I was looking for. If you are not willing to give it to me, then unfortunately, I think our time here is done.” Rook cocked her head to the side slightly, reaching out a hand and stroking a stray hair behind John’s ear. He pulled away, his lip curling a little now.

“You’re used to getting your way,” she said quietly, shrugged. “So am I. There’s no reason we can’t both get what we want.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers. He considered for a moment.

“I’m not…completely averse to the idea,” he admitted. “I’ve never had a woman…I’ve never been, uh…”

“Pegged?” she suggested helpfully. He snorted.

“Yes. That.”

“Your profile said ‘bisexual.’”

“Yes, well, the dicks I usually take aren’t plastic,” he sassed, still on edge. Rook laughed.

“Fair enough. And I thought I pegged you as a bottom, no pun intended. You have that energy.” John bristled.

“And just what exactly do you mean by that?” he snapped. She raised a shapely brow.

“I mean that you know what you want, and you take it. I mean that you enjoy receiving things more than you enjoy giving them. And, I suspect, you like telling people ‘yes.’ You’re a people pleaser, or have I read you all wrong?” For a moment, John wanted to throw her out of his room bodily. But then he chuckled, plucking a non-existent piece of lint from his sleeve.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Just what did you have planned for me tonight, Ms. Rook?”

“Just ‘Rook,’” she corrected. “I’m going to make you see God, provided you’ll let me. When I’m done with you, ‘yes’ won’t just be a word, it will be a motto,” she promised with a smile, sliding her dress off with a casual motion. She was wearing nothing beneath it. John raised his brows, utterly fascinated with her now. “So. Are you interested, or has this all just been a waste of my time?”

“No. No, this certainly has not been a waste of either of our time,” he assured her, appreciating someone who was clearly as theatrical as he was.

“Good. Take off your clothes and get on the bed.” He obeyed, sliding his suit jacket off and beginning to unbutton the green vest beneath it. He hung each piece with care, running a hand over his slicked-back hair. Wearing nothing now except an interested expression, John climbed onto the bed. While he had been undressing, Rook had been donning her harness. It sat across her hips, rich brown leather straps running around and between her legs. From a ring at its center, just above the slit between her long legs, a purple dildo protruded, glistening with lube.

“So,” John purred, meeting her gaze, “what now?”

“Turn around, get on all fours,” she ordered, tone offering no possibility for argument.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ugh, don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ I get called that all the time at work.” John huffed a laugh and obeyed, groaning when he felt a rough tongue pressing against his asshole.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned as Rook expertly pleasured him with her tongue, lapping at the sensitive skin between his cheeks. She used one hand to stroke his cock and grab at his balls, but the other was busy preparing him, stretching him patiently. She started with one finger, sinking it inside him and tapping against a spot that made him see stars. “Oh, oh fuck,” he rasped out. It had been a long, long time since someone had put any part of themselves inside him and somehow the emotionless, professional way Rook had initiated this made it even hotter. She worked him gently, but firmly, all smooth motions, ordering him to bend over more deeply as she inserted more fingers. His cheek was pressed against a pillow and he didn’t fight it, didn’t even bother trying to act as though he had any modicum of control over this situation. He was putty beneath her fingers, a willing sacrifice at the altar of pleasure.

“Yes,” he murmured over and over into the pillow, his eyes rolling back in his head with the overwhelming sensations of pleasure as she stroked his prostate, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he kept muttering. Something blunt and a little cold touched his asshole as Rook pulled her fingers from him, wiping them on a damp rag she had sat on the night stand. He grunted as he felt a thing of thicker girth than her fingers trying to press into him.

“You alright?” He couldn’t get his mouth to say anything other than ‘yes,’ so he both nodded and slurred the word out again, though he felt a slight burn as his body spread to accommodate the strap-on Rook was wearing. “Lean back into me,” she ordered, and he obeyed, pressing himself back against the toy, feeling it press inside him. The head of it smashed against his prostate and he made a singularly embarrassing noise as it did so. Behind him, Rook chuckled, making the toy vibrate inside him.

“Yes!” he cried out again, reaching to touch his dick, but Rook beat him to it. She pushed all the way in and then pulled slowly, agonizingly back out, copying her movements in counter-harmony with her hand around his dick. It was overwhelming and John had to fight orgasming right then with the depths of pleasure tingling over and through all his nerves.

Rook pegged him for hours, flipping him over and fucking him with his legs around his ears before sliding in behind him as they laid on their sides, all while whispering filth in his ear, telling him how well he was taking her, keeping a steady rhythm that was slowly driving him mad. It was driving him mad mostly because he was fairly confident that sex would never be the same again. He had absolutely no idea where a not-quite-thirty-year-old woman learned to do the things Rook was doing to him, but he was confident he had never been fucked like this before.

Rook prodded his shoulder, pushing him into a new position.

“Again?” he asked, his voice a little desperate. He was sore but was nowhere near wanting to stop. That said, he didn’t know if his legs would hold him up if they changed positions again.

“Yep. Stand on the floor and lean over the bed.” John stood wobbily and Rook waited as he positioned himself, his legs feeling like Jell-O. She pressed into him again and grabbed his waist, fucking him mercilessly into the mattress, his erect dick trapped between his belly and the comforter. He started to reach for himself, but she slapped his hand away, leaning over him and biting his ear. “You touch yourself when I say you can touch yourself, Johnny boy,” she hissed. The room grew a little brighter as he felt his pupils blow a little more open, lust flooding him at her commandment. What Rook was doing to him was better than any drug, any drink, anything, he decided, gasping out a loud cry every time she slammed into him, groaning roughly as she wore him out, seeming tireless.

Finally, she put a hand on his hip and directed him backwards as she sat on one of the opulent chairs in the hotel room. He sat in her lap, the toy still deep inside him.

“Time for you to do some work,” she told him. With a cry, his thighs burning, he began to ride her up and down, his back to her. She ran fingers down his spine, lingering over scars and tattoos, massaging the muscles. Finally, her hands meandered to his front and gripped his cock tightly. “Lube,” she ordered. He paused in his motions and handed it to her. She lubed her hand and began to stroke him in time to his own movements, murmuring little encouragements as her other hand pinched one of his nipples. “Come for me, John,” she told him.

“No,” he said stubbornly. He had spent the entire evening letting her take the reins, and he had, at last, reached his breaking point. He still wanted to fuck her, and while he was not old, he knew he was in his mid-thirties and he had not orgasmed in a while. He wasn’t confident he would have a round two in him, so he fought her, his pride not letting him give in to her orders completely.

“Have it your way,” she smirked, pushing him off her lap without further ado. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell gracelessly to the floor. He barely caught himself from hitting the carpeted floor face-first and when he struggled to his feet, he lunged toward her, snarling. He realized it had all been a ploy. Her eyes were wide and bright with lust. She had been trying to find that breaking point, that moment he would resist and take over. She reached behind her and undid a buckle, the toy and the harness sliding from her hips. She tossed him a condom and he slid it on, pushing her to the bed. She growled as he climbed atop her, raking nails down his back.

“Is…uh…the normal entrance okay?” he took long enough to ask. Being a lawyer will make one wary of consent laws.

“Yes. Now shut up and fuck me,” Rook demanded. With no more discussion, John sank into her, reveling in the feeling of tightness and warmth. She slid a finger back inside him, and after a few minutes of fast, enthusiastic strokes, they both came together, him with a groan, her with a cry.

John flopped off her, his hair damp and falling haphazardly around his face. He found he didn’t care. Panting, he wiped sweat from his forehead, feeling a dull, burning ache between his legs where she had fucked him sideways and every other direction. He looked at her, ordering himself to remain calm.

“Would you be interested in doing this again sometime?” he asked, cursing himself at the hopeful tone in his voice. Rook rolled her eyes at him.

“No. It’s not like we’ll ever see each other again after this. I’m not from here.”

“Neither am I,” he said, regret seeping into his tone. “It’s a shame, that was incredible.”

“It was something,” she acquiesced, an amused expression on her face. “Look, I, uh, I gotta go. You can keep the toy, but not the harness.” She pulled her dress and shoes on, throwing the harness in her bag.

“Right now?” John asked.

“Yeah,” she told him. “I’m finishing up at the police academy here in Billings and classes start early in the morning.” John chuckled.

“Well, that explains why you like to be in control. Why don’t you give me a call sometime when you’re a full-fledged cop? Never hurts to be friends with a lawyer,” he suggested. Rook gave him an odd look.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again, John. But, thanks for the nice evening. I had fun.”

With that, she was gone.

John drove back to Hope county the next day, utterly spent and incredibly sore, but he had no complaints. Joseph greeted him in neutral tone, asking how his trip went. John tried to ignore how Joseph glanced at his arms, sniffing subtly when they hugged, obviously suspicious of what John had been up to in Billings.

“How’s Jacob?” John asked to distract Joseph.

“Doing well. Recruitment is going better than I had hoped, but I think we will have problems with some of the citizens of Hope County. That’s where you come in, brother. Are you ready?”

“I’ve never felt better,” John assured him, knowing there was a spring in his step from getting fucked senseless the previous night. He planned to use that energy to up the ante on recruitment, to get his way, to make sure that the Project succeeded.

As he focused himself back on his work, John truly thought that the high from Rook’s treatment of him would get him through the boring task of taking over a county through legal means first. But as he flipped through page after page of deed paperwork and legal jargon that he could deal with in his sleep, John found his mind wandering.

John longed for sex now, craved it, like a drug. It didn’t take long for him to once again fall prey to his addiction. He had been too sure of himself, too certain that his slip up was a one-time occurrence. Whenever he was stressed, or angry, or just bored, he fucked Holly either in his Lodge or out in the semi-privacy of the woods, but it just wasn’t the same. There was only one person he wanted, and he would never see her again. Or so he thought.

John had been taught by his adoptive parents, years before, that Pride goeth before the fall. Very few things his adoptive parents taught him were correct, but in this one case, perhaps he should have headed their advice.

A little more than a year after their night of pleasure, John was gathered with the rest of his family, listening as Joseph gave a late-night sermon. Joseph was mid-sentence when two county deputies and a federal marshal walked into their quaint chapel. He felt his stomach flip when he recognized the pretty face of none other than Junior Deputy Rook, who had the audacity to wink at him amid the chaos.

This time, as Rook placed Joseph in handcuffs and took command of the situation, John did not find himself saying “yes” to her. Instead, he muttered only one word, his thin face pale and his hands clammy:

“Fuck.”


End file.
